It is 1677, the Baroque Court in France is the pristine pinnacle of fashion, fortune and power... However recently cracks have begun to appear throughout our little world and the people we once trusted are now, plotting and planing things we can only wonder about... these truly are dark days In the Palace of Light and Air.

As concepts and ideas evolve in time, so has this roleplay, shifting from its original premise into a more freeform style where characters' agendas are as diverse as they come, encompassing more than just the old goal of becoming the King's Advisor.

As such, this new re-incarnation of The Vipers' Nest proposes some changes to the format, aiming to make the game both more flexible and easier to understand.

So, what has changed?

-The struggle for the position of King's Advisor is no longer the core goal of the roleplay; but it isn't removed – the King still needs an advisor, and it remains an attractive possibility for any high-ranking noble who wishes to gain the monarch's ear and even more influence! The difference is, if someone is interested and eligible, they may try, through roleplay, to achieve it, by first PMing me with their idea for approval and then putting it in practice – please only do it if you intend to be active.

Which courtiers are eligible?

*Ducs and Duchesses

If a character becomes the Advisor but is inactive for more than a month real time, they will be demoted and can be replaced.

-Scandals are no longer decided or made known through a randomiser and may be uncovered by any Courtier through roleplay. However, no God-modding (see below) ! Give the other person a chance to defend themselves. Players are encouraged to discuss scenarios in PMs, and remember – nobody is invincible, bad things happen in life, so, the more scandalous your character's behaviour and/or past is, the higher the chance they will be exposed!

-Pre-existing scandals aren't compulsory, but encouraged, since they give your character depth and help with the purpose of this game. This may change if too many people refuse to create a scandal for their character.

A more in depth explanation lies below:

Severity:

Minor Scandals: These scandals have to do with flirtations, having relations with a commoner, duelling, and blackmail.

Major Scandals: These scandals have to do with infidelity, murder, treason and stealing from the King.

In the past, Baroness Venn was the one who dealt with scandals, both learning about them and making them known to others. Since the Court lacks a designated snoop, the problem needs a different solution while keeping it fair for both parties.

In a court as populated and diverse as the Palace of Light and Air, walls often have ears. As a consequence, if your character engages in some sort of illicit behaviour (talking about it, even if it is a past event, with another courtier counts), there is always the chance of being seen, or overheard. The more public the setting, the higher the chance. If a character witnesses such indiscretions, and plans on making it public, they must first approach the one(s) involved to give them the opportunity to try and protect their secret. This can range from a mutual agreement, to a bribe, blackmail, threat, and so on. The chances of success depend on how persuasive each Courtier is and the pre-existing relationship between the two (people who dislike you will be more difficult to convince, obviously). If the attempt fails and the scandal comes out, it is assumed the news will reach the King's ear; as such, your character loses a rank and their reputation attains a stain. But, despair not! There will be opportunities to redeem yourself later.

Keep in mind what's possible and what isn't when you attempt to uncover someone's scandals: barging into someone's private suite isn't realistic, witnessing a stolen kiss in an empty public salon is. (an example) Discretion goes a long way, and it may save your character a lot of misfortune if you are careful (at least, for a while until someone starts noticing frequent visits to your suite....)

Since the danger of god-modding is great, the final decision will be reviewed by me, unless the players confirm it was a mutual agreement, something which is very much encouraged to do. We're here to have fun, remember that.

A few select individuals with access to the King may offer him suggestions received from courtiers. These suggestions, sent formally by PM may or may not reach the King's ear depending on the decision of the Suggestion Maker (if he or she has an interest in forwarding your message, the chances of success are increased; equally, if your character is disliked by the Suggestion Maker, the note might never reach its destination...) and a randomizer. If your suggestion has made it through, the final outcome is also decided by a randomizer.

Duc & Duchesse – This is the highest level attainable in court. They have the most money, the best suites, and the most sordid past. Each character of this level starts with 80,000 livres, and may have a major scandal.

Marquis & Marquise – Wealthy and powerful as they may be, they are still a step away from the pinnacle of influence at the Court. Each character of this level starts with 70,000 livres, and may have a major scandal

Comte & Comtesse – The middle level of power in the court. They’re not the smallest fish in the pond, but they sure don’t rule the roost. Each character of this level starts with 60,000 livres, and may have a major or minor scandal.

Baron & Baronesse- The lowest level of nobles in court. They are just beginning their journey up the ladder. Each character of this level starts with 40,000 livres, and may have a minor scandal.

Untitled Characters – These characters have no title and are referred to simply as Mr. and Mrs. They may very well think themselves wealthy and important, but they’re nothing compared to the nobles with titles. Each character of this level starts with 20,000 livres. They may have a minor scandal.

How are titles gained?

-If your character has distinguished himself or herself through gameplay, or has gained the appreciation of someone closely connected to the Royal Family, they may be awarded money, or a title depending on the importance of their gesture.

(Active, dedicated members will have their chances increased)

-There is also the possibility for characters to use rather more insidious means to advance, such as blackmail, particularly if they are aware of a scandal pertaining to a character who might be able to provide them with one...

- Money makes the world go around. It costs 40,000 to gain the title of Baron/Baronesse from an untitled state, 60,000 livres to buy your way up one title from Baron/Baronesse to Comte/Comtesse 70,000 to ascend from Comte/Comtesse to Marquis/Marquise and 80,000 from Marquis/Marquise to Duc/Duchesse.

Additionally, you may request an amount of money by visiting the Court Accountant (randomiser), in RP formally asking for the money. The request will be denied or approved formally by PM. If your request is approved you may recieve the amount you ask for or half the amount, depending , once again, on a randomiser. You can only ask for money four times, and each request is limited to a maximum of 20,000 livres. You must have two rounds between each visit to the accountant. The money is measured in the baroque French currency – livres.

The court accountant is Monsieur Tobias Benedetti

How are titles lost?

-A minor scandal made public knowledge (and thus reaching the King's ear) equals a loss of rank
-A major scandal uncovered equals the loss of two ranks (unless your character happens to be a Baron or Baronesse, in which case they loose both a rank and half their money. Untitled characters aren't likely to be involved in major scandals, but should one arise, they might face bankruptcy)

Each roleplay day is split into three; Morning, Afternoon, and Evening. These will be operating on a 7, 7, 6, basis. Which basically means each morning and afternoon equal a week in real life; evening is one day shorter. This will allow ample time to roleplay each storyline.

-All characters must be at least 16 years of age.

-All RPs must have a minimum of 8 lines, excluding those quoted from another post. You are encouraged to build conversations via PM then post them in the thread if need be.

-Do your best to stay in the feel of the times. Remember, this is before electricity, running water, and automobiles.

-Be respectful towards eachother; God-modding and powerplaying will not be tolerated

-Keep things PG13; that is no explicit sexual and violent situations

-If you plan to be inactive for more than a week real time, let us know so that your RP partners may move their character(s), and if you wish to retire, please take the time to provide an exit for your character.

-Have fun!

Though the palace of light and air is indeed grand, there are only fourteen suites available. So if you no longer wish to participate, please have the courtesy to remove your character from the RP to allow others to join. Do not be surprised if your character is removed if you have been inactive for a month’s time.

When you submit an application please include the following:

Name:
Title:
Age:
Bio:
Picture: (Does not have to be a sim)

After you submit your application, you have the option to PM me your character’s given scandal. This is the scandal they begin the game with.

A young boy, is born into a world of power, he proves to be a quiet man and during his young days is already pressured, after all he is to grow up to be king.

The young Edouard befriends an intelligent young man with a great eye for detail and understanding of social politics. The King encounters Duc d'Lorraine.

Within the Palace of light and air a fitting young woman is found for Edouard to court.

Love blossoms *thanks to the aid of Duc d'Lorraine* and The King marries.

Princess Adalita is born, the future Queen of the Kingdom.

The Duc d'Lorraine leaves the court to return to his family estate.

The Duc de Mollier becomes increasingly popular and becomes the King's advisor.

A widow arrives in the court, under the name of Madame Mercy Flight, her past is widely known and her reputation begins to build.

A friendship of sorts is struck up between the first Queen and the court gossip.

The first Queen passes away and the Duchess of Champagne, Juliet de Margoles brings her daughter the court.

The young Isabella de Margoles becomes the second Queen.

Duc d’Mollier is found dead, the court is in chaos and a new advisor must be located.

The Princess begins to show her true colours by spending her time in the company of young men.

A Duc by the name of Silvius attracts the attention of several female courtiers including the Princess.

The Queen forms a friendship with a courtier named Octavien who is giving her harpsichord lessons.

*Both relationships progress.*

The Queen seems to strike up a friendship with the court gossip Mme Flight.

The Princess Adalita announces her engagement to Silvius.

*The Princess falls pregnant.*

*Mme Flight blackmails her way into a title, Silvius out of an engagement and gains the Queen’s favour.*

The Princess engagement is now to Octavien Lahance. *The Queen's lover.*

The Princess and Octavien are married.

Adalita falls Ill.

Baroness Flight, reverts to her Maiden name, Venn.

The Queen plays the doting step mother.

Princess Adalita dies.

The Queen’s Mother Juliet de Margoles arrives to attend the funeral.

After the funeral the Queen collapses and Juliet demands her return to the family home.

Juliet desires for a relative to come to the palace to represent the Queen. The Voice-in-Court, Baron Larkin D'Marius.

Prince Octavien receives news of his engagement to the Spanish lady Elena Sánchez de Suárez y Torre from an unsympatheticDuc D'Lorraine.

Baroness Venn makes the decision to leave the Court and join her sister in England.

*Marquess Berini is assasinated at the hands of Duc D'Lorraine

Prince Octavien Lahance and Elena Sánchez are married

Baron Larkin d'Marius, Isabella's Voice-in-Court returns to his family estate which had fallen into disarray at the hands of a corrupt steward

* events that you know but your character might not know

Proeminent Characters:

The King Edouard Auguste Louis Rotherham IV

Age: 42

King Edouard is a private man who spends most of his time in his Salon, or in his private suite. He leant heavily upon his wife and his friend Duc d'Lorraine for advice after the loss of his beloved Duc of Mollier. With Isabella also temporarily indisposed, the Voice-in-Court had taken her place.

Dimitri-Josèphe, Duc d'Lorraine
Age: 48

The King's old friend, Dimitri, is quite opposite of the King in nearly every way imaginable, fortunately this means you can indeed talk to him, and perhaps sway him, even gain his appreciation.

Octavien came to this court as an untitled man. Thanks to his luck in happening across the Queen when she was in need he found himself in her favor, eventually moving up the ranks to the title of a Comte, then Prince through his marriage to Princess Adalita. Now that she has passed away he has found himself inopportunely married again, to a woman not of his choice.

Spanish by birth, Elena has maneuvered herself into a marriage to France's Prince Octavien, thanks to her father's acquaintance with King Edouard and her own limitless ambition.

Proeminent courtiers no longer available:

Princess Adalita

The King’s only heir, she was a rebellious young lady until her untimely demise.

Queen Isabella Rotherham

Age: 23

King Edouard's second wife, she is often called the most powerful woman of the kingdom. It is a title that she enjoys living up to immensely. Whilst still living she is currently residing in the family home with her parents and her older brother, due to poor health.

Bio: Married at 13 and widowed at 17, Marie-Elisabeth widely says she only gained two good things from her arranged marriage. Her massive inheritance from her husband, and their 6 year old son Charles. Named for her late husband, he is being educated and cared for by the best tutors money can buy. As the widow of the Comte de Valois she might not have inherited his estate but, as the mother of his only son (his first wife had 2 daughters), she holds it until he comes of age. Her two stepdaughters are named Sophie (14) and Helene (16).

Being forced into her marriage at such a young age, she believes she never got to experience life. Being saddled with a husband who was literally 4 times her age was something Marie-Elisabeth has always resented. While she admittedly cared for her husband, who doted on her and granted her every whim, she was in no way in love with him. She has come to court to make something of her life and hopefully have some fun while she’s there. What exactly that fun is remains to be seen. She does have an impressive talent at card playing though, and those who venture to play with her often find their purses much lighter after the game.

Marie-Elisabeth always has a look about her that suggests she’s plotting something, and has a tendency to be bitter about her marriage and those who think it should define her life. She always keeps her own best interests and those of her young son close to her heart. She has a small locket with a portrait of him in it that she wears at all times, only taking it off when she goes to bed. She has a particular weakness for beautiful clothes. She also has a strong sense of pride, and won't tolerate people who don't know their place in the world or presume to be above it.

In terms of the "look" I've often said Marie-Elisabeth has on her face, I refer you to this gorgeous picture that has it dead on: Link

Also, as to the locket she wears, I imagine it being similar to this one link, with a fancy string of pearls (think Anne Boleyn's B) and a V for Valois instead on an M on the actual locket.

Bio: Her father's masterpiece, Isabella is the only legitimate daughter of the formidable Baron Ashton Devine. While the Devine bloodline is among the most powerful and 'pure' in all of Europe, Ashton cares little for social divides and consequently, Isabella cares little for anything but her own advancement in society.

Once minor royalty in Europe, Ashton's recent ancestors saw their titles stripped down due to extensive scandals. However, the family has recovered remarkably since, drawing upon the strengths of age old bloodties, the strongest of these being to the Italian House of Savoy. While Ashton has his minor indiscretions, he is armed which frightening business acumen, which his daughter uses for purposes extending beyond business. Beautiful and charming, she is chameleon like at times, but smooth enough not to get caught.

Her father's long business trips saw the young Isabella sent to the acclaimed Abbey Huntingdon to be educated before her entrance into society. However, Isabella took this opportunity to extend her education beyond simple poetry and novels and was soon packaged off as one of Queen Catherine's many ladies in waiting due to her rebellion and anarchy at the abbey. Returning to her native homeland after her absence, she is determined to make her place in the court.

Christine is rather reserved, quiet and observant. Christine was brought up by a strict mother who cared little about anything other than money and society. From a young age, due to her lack of siblings, she was trained to be the best that she could be at anything - at any cost. However, while she grew more shrewd, sharp and diplomatic, she became cold and snobbish.
With the recent, tragic loss of her parents, she has become solely responsible for her fortune and therefore seeks to strengthen her position by becoming the King's advisor, knowing that she would be more than excellent at it.

Though impeccably ladylike, she is intimidating, authoritative and ambitious to a frightening degree.

Bio: When Joséphine of Vortigern, aged sixteen, was told she was going to become the Marquise de Mont-de-Marsan, her fanciful mind projected the beginning of a fairytale marriage with all it entailed. Having witnessed it happen to her elder sister, Joséphine dreaded being married off to a man many years her senior, or otherwise brutish and violent for as long as she could remember.

César was not like that. Young, handsome, intelligent and endearing, he appeared to be the husband any woman desired, and Joséphine was smitten with him almost from the beginning.

Loosing her innocence came at a terrible price however: settled comfortably in the plush luxury of the Mont-de-Marsan estate, Josephine witnessed, year after year, her husband's infidelity, chipping away at the idealized view of life she had fashioned for herself. At first, she bottled her jealousy, hopeful that César's affairs were only fleeting, temporary, but as time went by, she was forced to accept a rather different reality. Joséphine did it proudly, turning a blind eye whenever her husband did not share her bed at night or was seen whispering in another woman's ear words unknown, despite the ache it caused her, often wondering whether César believed she did not know or, just as she pretended not to, so did he. From the moment of her birth, she had been bred into a lady, and a lady did not become angry. A lady did not question her husband's behaviour.

Joséphine tried, and often succeeded.

Sometimes however, she did not. Unknown to most outsiders, a scorching flame burned beneath the Marquise's calm, quiet exterior. A fiery passion that rebelled against her conditioning, which tempted her mind with beguiling whispers. That hidden fire would surface when it grew too hot to contain, often in surprising ways. Transforming from a girl into a woman and later a mother, Joséphine grew more and more aware of her power over a man's mind, of the effect a stolen glance and a fleeting touch could produce, inwardly horrified at her wantonness whenever such thoughts percolated. And just a little exhilarated.

César, too, baffled her. Despite the attention he lavished on his mistresses, he was not cold towards Joséphine, or their two daughters, Adèle and Angélique. On the contrary, he remained the charming young man she had married, alternating between the attentive husband and loving father and the ladies' man; however she would often get the feeling she was a step below his mistresses as far as his interest was concerned. This stirred Joséphine's fiery core, causing her to undergo endless private debates as she struggled to understand what it was that she lacked that he felt the need to look for in other women. She continued to educate herself despite her mother-in-law's disapproval, driven by a personal desire to enrich her knowledge and awareness of what went on around her, growing ever more skilled at reading others' mannerisms, including César's, who enjoyed challenging her and being challenged, a game of wit and subtle provocation that had as many chances of ending in a night of passion as it did in a cold “good night”.

In society's eyes, Joséphine is the perfect image of a dutiful wife with a pleasant singing voice, the angelic-looking Marquise de Mont-de-Marsan. However, if one lingered in her presence longer, they might discover that underneath that demure façade lurked a keen mind and a woman who was as sweet natured as she was ambitious, capable of unexpected astuteness.

Thanks to her husband's friendship with Prince Octavien Lahance, Joséphine now had the opportunity to be introduced into the court life surrounding the Palace of Light and Air, a world that dazzled and intrigued her at the same time, for it appeared to house a couple of strong, influential women like she aspired to become. To be taken seriously by men and respected for more than just her title is one of Joséphine's ambitions, and she often finds herself regretting having been born a woman.

Bio: There are powerful, influential men among the aristocracy of Europe, and there are men such as Duque (duke) Carlos Sánchez de Suárez y Torre, who throughout his long life has manoeuvred himself into an exalted position, a "Grande of Spain", the very pinnacle of wealth and political and social power, second only to the royal family.

However, while Duque Carlos rules his vast lands, estates and fortunes, Elena rules Duque Carlos. A formidable man indeed, he has one clear weakness: his only daughter whom he loves above all. Ever since her childhood days, Elena has been unusually apt at influencing those around her into doing her will, her father most of all, while managing to keep herself untied to any proof of mischief, either through bribery, blackmail and some even whisper, murder. When the Duque's wife died after a life of fragile health, Elena was seventeen and without siblings. Despite strong suggestions and advice, Duque Carlos refused to re-marry, and those who knew the family came to suspect Elena had a hand in her father's decision, aware of the great influence she maintained over him.

Supremely ambitious and ruthlessly determined to never bow to a master, Elena had always dreaded the day one of her relatives would step in and claim her fortunes, and begin making decisions concerning her fate. This was the reason she has been avoiding marriage for as long as she possibly could, dripping honey into the Duque's ear year after year until he no longer questioned her motives for risking spinsterhood or worse. While she inhabited her father's estate, Elena ruled supreme, and it was not a position she would easily relinquish.

However, as the years progressed and Duque Carlos advanced in old age, it became searingly clear to Elena that her existence would be threatened the moment he passed away, leaving his title and fortune within reach of one of his younger brothers, or some other relation who would try to claim it. It only meant that she needed to secure her position before that came to happen, in the only way available to her: marriage, but not to just anybody. Nothing short of royalty would do, unfortunately the King of Spain was married and his sons much too young; Elena then turned her attention to foreign countries instead, aware she had quite a few years on most unmarried ladies and the clock was ticking. It was fortunate indeed that Duque Carlos had a lifelong ally in King Edouard of France; from his letters she learned that Prince Octavien Lahance was a widower and the matter of marriage had been brought up....

Not much later, Elena embarked on a permanent trip to France, as the Prince's soon-to-be wife, which she very recently has become.

Personality:
Octavien was a young man with a hunger for nothing more than fun and adventure. Unfortunately, this lead to quite a few precarious situations, and after having been seen leaving the bedroom of one too many married women, his parents sent him away from home, to the court, in the hopes of having him discover that there's more to life than just having "fun". And he did. He discovered power, and the perks of having friends in high places. Now he has his mind set on earning a title, one way or another, and although still a carefree thrill-seeker, he can also be a cunning, ambitious trickster. He's watching the aristocrats and learning what he can from them. And the higher the title, the bigger his interest. Thus, he has taken a special interest in the Queen herself.

Name: César de la VallièreTitle: Marquis de Mont-de-MarsanAge: 23Bio: Imagine for a moment the untitled Octavien Lahance, not yet a courtier at the Palace of Light and Air, as a cartoon character, with the classical angel on one shoulder, beseeching him to behave and be good, and a tiny devil on the other, constantly tempting him to be naughty and bad.
That tiny devil, would be César de la Vallière; Marquis de Mont-de-Marsan and one of Octavien's best friends since childhood. Good-natured, charismatic, and with eyes rarely lacking a spark of humor and mischief, the two years older César was the ringleader of sorts, of what one could call the late 17th century 'brat pack' - the circle of friends - that Octavien was part of before being sent to the court by his parents, to mature.

César is very much a man of his time, and his social standing. With his father having died a few years ago, he's now the man of the house and the estate, and the head of the family, consisting of his mother, his wife, and two (legitimate) daughters, whom he adores. He spends a great deal of his time on the favorite past times of the young and the wealthy, such as riding, horse racing, fencing, hunting, parties and balls, playing cards, visiting the opera and the theatre, etcetera, and despite being married at the age of seventeen - an arranged marriage, but not one he objected to, or even minded much - he's still a ladies man. However, he's not the kind of man to leave a woman's bed, never to return. The affairs he has are rarely 'one-time' things, and do not limit themselves to nothing but bedroom activities. Over the years, he's had a few select mistresses, to whom he keeps returning, and has only occasionally had brief flings. But even with his wandering eye, and even though his mistresses tend to end up rather well off - recieving gifts of money, dresses, jewelry and perhaps even a small mansion - he would never flirt with another woman or look at her excessively, while in the presence of his wife. Despite his affairs, he does love her - her wits, her passion, her beauty, not to mention the firey temper that he so loves to tease - and he will never spend too many nights in a row away from her bed. He simply believes it's a man's privilege to have a mistress or two. Still, he might have a tendency to neglect her and take her for granted every now and then. They are married after all, and so in a way he's already and always entitled to her, whereas a mistress isn't bound to him by anything but interest alone. Thus, Joséphine might not recieve as many and as romantic gestures as her rivals.

Picture:
(Expect another pic later. I was trying to get him to flash that mischievous smile of his, but I'm not quite happy with it, it makes his face look a bit weird.)

Title:Baron d'Aurvilies
Age: 34
Bio: Larkin, the queen's paternal uncle, was rather awkward for his parents [the queen's grandparents] to deal with. As a small child he was told, in no uncertain terms by a governess that being the youngest son meant that there was no way he would inherit anything useful and was essentially another mouth. Not that the nobility of France couldn't handle it, she had said, but it had a profound effect on young Larkin. He proceeded to ignore the lessons of fine statecraft imparted to his older brothers, and instead study the more... abstruse sciences. Those of ambition, of greed, of efficiency.

Upon his twentieth birthday Larkin's father died, and, as expected, gave the eldest brother most of the duchy, and leaving small, infertile, essentially useless baronies and marquedoms to the younger brothers. Larkin, being thoroughly uninterested in any of the day to day administration of his barony, and having been responsible for deflowering a few women he shouldn't have gone near, went to court. After a year he was appointed ambassador to Zimbabwe, ostensibly for experience abroad, but actually because the bastards he fathered were starting to want more than the stipend he was giving.

While there he maneuvered brilliantly amongst the natives, bearing technology to them and piles of gold and trade goods away, all for the good of France. He has been there for well over a decade, missing his brother's wedding, said brother's daughter's birth, and said daughter's rise to queen. However in his capacity as ambassador he was able to cultivate a firm friendship with the king. Due to some small insurrections in Zimbabwe, Larkin was exiled from there and has returned to the court, as he still has no interest in his barony, and it is capably run by a steward, who leaves the appropriate revenues to his Baron's disposal.

Larkin d'Marius is rather pleased to return to his native land, self imposed exile does get tedious after more than a decade. He remains ambitious, wanting a better parcel of land for his long suffering steward to administer to, but at the moment is quite content to enjoy real food that is not spiced to death, and real women that go about leaving something for a man to think about during the occasional dull days. As opposed to the ladies of Zimbabwe... who provided things other than thought.

Picture: Forthcoming (Hopefully)

The humor of a story on the internet is in direct inverse proportion to how accurate the reporting is.

In all honesty when she initially made the comment about the horses, Marie-Elisabeth had been referring to the animals. It was only afterwards that she realized how apt the descriptions seemed to match César and herself, and covered up her shocked amusement with a giggle. It really was funny how she had ended up with a pretty golden coloured horse, which seemed perfectly happy to wait until they were ready to go. While he had gotten a much darker coloured stallion, one that the stableboy seemed to have difficulty in keeping under control.

She had been quite unable to control her less than innocent mind when he had helped her into the saddle of the horse, and was sure her abbess sister Marie-Anne would have dunked her in the baptismal font full of holy water if she could hear them. She of course noticed that his hand lingered around her waist far longer than most would consider necessary or even proper, but she really didn’t mind in the slightest. In fact, the close contact was really starting to make her wonder why she had acted like such a scared little girl this morning in the first place.

The reigns securely in her hands, she concentrated on staying properly up in the saddle as he got onto his own horse. She had hoped most of her childhood experience would come back to her, and she wouldn’t make a complete fool of herself. After her marriage to Charles, riding hadn’t really been encouraged to her at all due to the belief that it was one of the leading causes of miscarriages. And there were no chances taken with her being, at least she had heard it said, the last chance for Charles to produce a son and heir.
Marie-Elisabeth had, to her relief, found that her assumption was largely true. The way she was supposed to sit, how tightly she was to hold the reigns, it was still right there in her mind. And after re assuring César two different times that she was perfectly fine, the two of them set off on the roads leading away from the palace.

"Why, Comtesse de Valois", César soon said, in a teasing way that made her laugh "I believe you must have played me for a fool when saying you were out of practice. You're doing quite well."

“No, I really haven’t done this in quite a while” she said, smirking and tucking a stubborn strand of hair behind her ear “I used to go all the time with…”. She paused for a moment, not really wishing to bring up the memories of her father again. She was in such a wonderful mood there was no way she was going to take the chance of dragging herself back down into it again. ‘Well I used to do this a lot when I was little” she finally continued, shaking her head slightly “I suppose it’s one of those things, amongst others, that all you really need to do is get back in the saddle and try again and it all comes flooding back to you”.

(((OOC: First RP post in the new thread! HUZZAH! We’ll still have the banker aspect in here as well right? I was thinking of making a visit: P

Larkin decided, upon looking more closely at the girl's attire, that either she was casually dressed-eccentrically so- or could not afford better. He would not act on his assumption of the former of course- judging natives' stature in Africa and judging courtier's status in France were two very different things, but it gave him some gorunds for comparison in case he did need to act on an assumption of station.

She spoke again saying "A pleasure to meet you, Monsuier Larkin. You may call me Padme." in that same elusively melodious accent. That further confirmed Larkin's initial opinion; the words were too clipped for anything but a commoner, and the French too good for it to be foreign.

She fell silent for a few moments, and Larkin was perfectly content to gaze about idly, even on a plain stretch of lawn with naught but a rose trellis and the forked tree, the air was scented in a charmingly woodsy way and Larkin was quite pleased to stand there and inhale. A grin flickered momentarily and- to his companion, inexplicably- onto his face. The sun was shining, it was a lovely day, so far his companion did not seem particularly insane, what wasn't there to smile about? The fact his reasons were perfectly good did not make the grin linger however.

He realized soon after that there had been a stretching silence, and for a moment he fumbled as to whether he should fill it, but, happily, Padme took that off of his hands by saying self consciously, "Lovely day isn't it? I was inside most of yesterday, so I figured I'd catch up on fresh air."

Larkin allowed a smile to creep onto his face, thsoe were his thoughts exactly. "Of course Mademoiselle Padme, the weather was rather bad for afternoon strolls yesterday. It is a delight now that the weather's broken though, I only recently arrived here, and haven't had a chance to view the gardens in much detail. The gardeners truly must be outdoing themselves."

The humor of a story on the internet is in direct inverse proportion to how accurate the reporting is.

((ooc: Lahance stud farms? As in, more than one Lahance stud? *snickers along with Robyn*

Oh yeah I added the accountant system again. I figured it's a helper for everyone, as it'll not be that easy to earn money in game.

Also, yay! New thread! Welcome back everyone! I'm still adding things and getting all details in order, I slightly updated the scandals section. ))

Octavien, Joséphine and Bella - the Palace Entrance Hall

Faith.

Joséphine felt it drain out of her along with that choking icy feeling in her gut, a fragile flower torn irreverently out of the ground with just a simple gesture. All of her hopes of a new beginning for hers and César's marriage, nurtured for weeks and weeks since the first whisper of a prolonged visit to the Royal Court reached her ear were reduced to ash within the blink of an eye. Nothing had changed. Instead it had only been transferred: a different home, different women...same sordid game.

Joséphine struggled to keep a scarlet flush from spreading all over her face, but a rising heat in her cheeks belied the blank, expressionless mask which currently had her dainty features frozen in place. All too suddenly, the crowds pressed in against her like a living, moving, smothering blanket of lace, silk and brocade, causing the young Marquise to wish herself somewhere else, far far away, where she did not have to face them and most of all Octavien, who knew her secret. Well, considering the rate César was going at, it would hardly remain a secret for long.

Joséphine was robbed of that, too: at least, whilst she lived at the Mont-de-Marsan family estate, she could separate her life from that of César's mistresses, creating a false, though comforting cocoon around herself where she could retreat and pretend his absences all had perfectly innocent explanations. Even if deep down she knew better, it made everything easier to bear.

Now however, it was impossible: they lived under the same roof, albeit a large one, and as it had been proven already, confrontation was unavoidable. Not only she had seen them go off into the sunset chatting merrily as though neither had a care in the world, but she would no doubt encounter the Comtesse again, either in one of the salons or the dining room, forced to look her in the eye and keep playing the game of pleasantries. But that was hardly the most difficult part: no, she would have to slip into bed that night and feel César's arms around her, his lips and his breath on her skin, possibly even listen to a made up story of why he had been absent all day. Joséphine did not know if she would be able to control herself.

Looking down at the torn and tattered fabric of her lavender gown, the Marquise was invaded by a deep, bitter feeling of disappointment: they had concocted that daring plan together, imagination running wild helped along nicely by alcohol, a plan which had seemed supremely ingenious and clever then. However it had been Joséphine alone who had to face the difficult part of putting it into practice the following morning, risking not only her reputation but possibly her well-being and – a hand instinctively sought her still flat abdomen – the life of a possible unborn child. And all the while, César had selfishly taken advantage of the situation and slunk away to woo Marie-Elisabeth de Valois, not even caring to know whether anything good had come out of it, or even if his own wife had emerged unscathed.

At that moment, the Marquise came closer than ever before to questioning César's love for her, and her own for him.

Joséphine was rescued from the deep dark pit she was spiralling towards by the unexpected arrival of Baroness Devine. At first she did not notice her among the many other faces, but she soon made her presence known with a light-hearted comment aimed no doubt at their dishevelled appearance, something Joséphine had almost forgotten about. Soon however the somewhat bemused joy twinkling in Bella's eyes was replaced by a look of growing concern as she discovered their injuries were in fact, very real.

“My goodness, are you both alright?” Bella whispered in her worry, “Has anyone seen to your injuries?" before adding decidedly: "We must see to these right away."

Joséphine inspected her arms as though seeing the scratches for the first time, several thin, superficial gashes that glared raw pink against her pale skin. They no longer truly pained her, but they remained remotely irritant. It occurred to Joséphine that most ladies worked up a fuss over a pricked finger, and that she was probably expected to have them treated, but in her present state of mind, the Marquise felt very unwilling to force even more restraint upon herself.

“Good evening, Baroness” she greeted with a thin, mirthless smile. No point in being rude as well to the poor woman, already anticipating an awkward moment when they would have to explain just why they looked as though they had crawled through a thorny bush. “Oh these? No need to worry yourself over them, they are barely skin deep. I have already suggested to Octavien that he had his cut tended, but I'm afraid the gentleman in him prevailed and he insisted on keeping me company a while longer.”

“Good evening, Baroness,” Joséphine’svoice and countenance seemed somewhat lacklustre and devoid of the sociability that had been present the night before, suddenly bare and vulnerable like a soldier stripped of his armour. She must have been hurt even worse that she looked, Bella decided. Or something else was playing on her mind, something enough to mask the injuries that most ladies of court would writhe about. She decided not to ask regarding the cause of their wounds, the first priority was to get them both some help, even if she had to do it herself.

“Oh these? No need to worry yourself over them, they are barely skin deep. I have already suggested to Octavien that he had his cut tended, but I'm afraid the gentleman in him prevailed and he insisted on keeping me company a while longer,” the Marquise continued on in the daze that had seemed to have overcome her during Bella’s approach. Bella felt her eyes glance back to the growing bloodstain on Octavien’s clothes. Granted, that did look somewhat more serious, but Joséphine seemed equally affected in other ways.

“A Prince by name and nature, then,” Bella slid an appreciative smile Octavian’s way before glancing between both her patients. The other courtiers seemed to carry on regardless of the rather alarming appearance of the Prince and the Marquise while Bella stood there compelled to do something about it. “It’s no trouble, Marquise. I feel it would be better to err on the right side of caution.”

It probably wasn’t persuasive enough and glancing back at the scratches on Joséphine’s arms, she knew it was best to have those tended to, along with Octavien’s wounds. It would be a lie to say Bella was a stranger to treating injuries, days of anarchy at the Abbey did not see the young girls walk away from their escapades unscathed. In fact, Bella had been lucky she did not scar or bruise easily and for those that did, her treatment became mandatory. Of course, escaping exposure in their raucous acts did mean that Bella had to learn the tricks of the trade when it came to being the makeshift physician.

“It won’t take very long, I’m sure,” Bella encouraged, again forming a compromise between looking at Joséphine and Octavien. Right now, her concern lay in getting the both of them some deserved treatment, but Bella could not help but wonder the reason for Joséphine’s depression of spirits. She found herself looking over at Octavien in help to persuade the stubborn Marquise to accept the treatment she may well need; those scratches did look fearsome against the pale skin that they had been inflicted upon. Then again, there was the possibility that she’d stumbled onto an awkward situation that didn’t need the input of a third party.

(((OOC: Hope there are no problems with that. Please let me know if you'd like anything changed,
P.S. I agree with Furry, poor Jo!)))

Padme grew up a servant, in a household similar to this one. She observed the ways of the cunning, and believed she would be one of them some day. Though she was young, her observant ways can be useful.

Her parents died when she was young from a sickness, but she was taken in time to an Abbey where she was later adopted and put to work (much like Cinderella without the adoption part). When she was 18, Padme "bought" her freedom (she was able to bribe the head of household, a baron, from the money she recieved from her parents inheritance) and quickly moved into a household like the one she grew up in, as a free woman.

A close friend, who knew an influential Baron, eventually (after much nagging and pestering for several years) put in a good word about Padme with another noble, and word eventually got around that she had potential as an advisor.

There was only one word to describe the feeling welling up within Octavien as he and Joséphine were making their ascent up the marbled steps of the Palace stairway, and she suddenly froze, causing Octavien to turn to look at her in slight confusion, wondering at the sudden stop, until his gaze fell on the sight that had just all but hit the young lady by his side square in the face; horror. Complete and utter horror.

Making their way out the grand doors of the Palace entrance, were none other than César and the Comtesse de Valois, both of them too engulfed by what seemed like rather merry conversation to notice the other couple watching them. Apparently, for some reason. César had decided that not only was it a good idea to chase a woman living far closer to him and Joséphine than any of his mistresses had ever done before, but that another equally good idea was to be seen in public getting along very nicely with said woman. For everyone, including Joséphine, to see.

Horror. There really was no other way to describe the feeling that gripped at Octavien's gut. Horror at witnessing the one scenario that just could not happen, horror at failing César, horror at seeing realization dawn on Joséphine, horror at witnessing the look on her face, of congeniality and warmth shatter under the sledgehammer that was heartbreak. Even long after César and Marie-Elisabeth had disappeared through the doors and out of sight, she remained frozen to the spot, staring at the doors, but seeing nothing.

What did one say when disaster struck like this? Especially when one had known it was happening, but had given no warning? Octavien searched frantically for something that he could possibly tell her to ease her shock, or her pain, but nothing came to him. He kept drawing blanks.
Instead, it was Joséphine herself that was the first to speak;

"You do not have to say anything. I know why you couldn't have told me."

The words came slow, and were uttered with such omnious calm and detachment that it felt as though the iron fist that had seized Octavien's gut, suddenly tightened it's grip.

"Joséphine...", he started, almost stuttering her name, unsure of whether her words meant she understood, or simply felt she knew by assuming that Octavien's loyalty laid with César, and that he had thus played along willingly with César's doings. "I... I'm sorry..."

There really was nothing more he could possibly say. The damage was done, and if Joséphine didn't know that Octavien had been a most unwilling participant, it was hardly a good time to try and explain anyway, as it would do little good right now, considering Octavien's attempt to cover for César was not what hurt her the most. She simply would not be susceptible to any explanations, at least for a while.

And, just as though fate had suddenly decided to intervene and put the whole situation on hold, it was just then that a familiar voice was heard from a few yards away;

"You know, there's a time, place and attire for adventure..."

Approaching them was the young brunette with the amiable and relaxed demeanor Octavien had had the pleasure of meeting the day before, and gotten to know a bit during the course of the evening. Bella.
Though no matter how pleased he was to get to meet her again, right now, he wasn't sure whether to feel relieved or increasingly distressed. Considering what had just happened, Joséphine would hardly be in the mood for socializing, and quite frankly, neither was Octavien. But at the same time, the interruption was a most welcome one, as neither the Prince nor the Marquise had seemed ready to say something else, and were most certainly not comfortable with the sudden and suffocatingly tense silence.

Yet even when Bella had reached them, and Octavien saw her eyes widen as she took in their entire appearances where they stood in all their dishevelled misery, he still could think of nothing to say. He wished he could have thought of something fairly witty, to try and smooth things over and spare Joséphine the observation Bella might make, that the Marquise was clearly not in the best of moods. But yet again, Joséphine was the first of to regain her composure, and as he watched her retreat behind her mask of pleasantries, it occured to Octavien that such skill did not come without alot of practice. Practice most likely offered by her husband's indescretions... Octavien knew she had realized a long time ago that César might not be entirely faithful to her. But could it be that she knew alot more than that, and had simply mastered the skill of pretending she didn't? When seeing César with the Comtesse de Valois, she had seemed shocked, but not all that surprised. And considering the two had merely been walking and talking, it would take either a person of an incredibly jealous nature to react the way she had, or a person who knew they had every reason to be concerned.Joséphine had never appeared to be the jealous type.

Greeting Bella with a simple nod and a gentle smile, as he himself had practiced his wearing of masks almost to perfection, especially as of late, Octavien then listened in silence as Bella expressed her concern about his and Joséphine's injuries, and as Joséphine tried to dismiss her own, firmly but cordially.

"A Prince by name and nature, then", Bella said in response to the Marquise's comment regarding Octavien's own stubborness, and flashed him an endearing smile, before continuing; "It's no trouble, Marquise. I feel it would be better to err on the right side of caution. It won’t take very long, I’m sure."

By now, Octavien had joined in the studying of Joséphine's scratches, and while they would hardly be life-threatening if going untreated, he did have to agree with Bella. If infected - Lord knows what had crawled around in that tree - they could become quite a nuisance, and add yet more to the burden on a slender pair of shoulders that really did not need it. Joséphine's burden weighed quite heavily on them already.

"I agree," he said and gave a nod as he registered the way Bella looked at him, as though seeking his support on the matter, to try and persuade Joséphine to get her cuts looked after. "Skin deep or not, no harm can come from having someone tend to them."

(((ooc: Sorry, kind of bleh, but I didn't want to keep you guys waiting any longer. Will try and have something up for César later, but no promises.)))

(((ooc: After this RP, I don't think I'll ever be able to look at horses the same way again. Yes, Lahance stud farms. *nod* That's how Octavien's family made their fortune.)))

Riding slowly away from the Palace and it's court, so far keeping to the main road, there was a beautiful landscape opening up before the eyes of César and Marie-Elisabeth. Early spring had begun painting the surroundings with the colors of new life; the light, healthy green of leaves and grass, sprinkled with the white, blue and yellow of early season flowers such as crocuses, irises and dandelions. The sky above a radiant blue, and the gentle caress of light from a sun that was minutes away from announcing the start of it's descent towards the horizon.

It was a most vivid and breathtaking visual. And yet, most would say such beauty was indeed wasted on the Marquis de Mont-de-Marsan, since his focus was currently not on the scenery. At least not the one consisting of trees, bushes and vast, open fields. His gaze kept lingering on Marie-Elisabeth's slender form, presumably to be quite the attentive instructor. And he really was. He just happened to make sure that he would make the most of the opportunity that was offered along with it; the opportunity to watch her as much and intently as he pleased.

The only exception he made, was whenever his attention was torn away from her by the temperamental beast he was riding. The impatient stallion seemed to want nothing more than to burst off into a wild gallop, and had he been alone, César would've let those desires loose a long time ago. He too loved the thrill of riding at breakneck speed, and leave all inhibitions behind while freedom embraced his very being, in the form of the wind flushing his cheeks and ruffling his hair.
But, he wouldn't, for even though Marie-Elisabeth appeared to be a far better rider than she had given herself credit for, he doubted very much that she was ready for such a wild chase.
Another time maybe? Because he very much intended for there to be more times like this one. Only they would have to happen far less publically than this one had. Being seen together with a young, pretty lady such as Marie-Elisabeth would probably have gotten rumours started already, unfortunately, and being seen with her repeatedly would be considered 'confirmation' of such rumours. Neither of them could afford that. César because of Joséphine, and Marie-Elisabeth because as a lady, her reputation was far more easily tarnished than his.

"No, I really haven’t done this in quite a while", Marie-Elisabeth assured him in response to his playful accusation/compliment. "I used to go all the time with..."

Suddenly she stopped, as if having caught herself about to say something she felt she shouldn't. And sure enough, when she continued, she did so by re-phrasing;

"Well I used to do this a lot when I was little", she concluded, and shook her head ever so slightly, yet enough to make that rogue lock of golden hair that was giving her such trouble, seem as though it was about to escape from behind her ear once again. "I suppose it’s one of those things, amongst others, that all you really need to do is get back in the saddle and try again and it all comes flooding back to you."

Unable to resist a renewed smile at her efforts of keeping that golden lock under control, César let a soft chuckle slip between his lips, deciding to pretend as though he hadn't registered that slight pause of hers. He'd already made the mistake of pushing her too far once, when a victim of that tunnel vision often caused by male desire, and he would not make the same mistake again. Or at least twice in the same day.

"Indeed, it does seem like it", he said and gave a slight but firm tug at the reins to keep the fidgety stallion from falling into a trot, before giving Marie-Elisabeth a glance that looked simply too innocent to be sincere, coming from César; "But alas, if that is truly the case, I take it you shall no longer require my assistance?"

((hahahahaha, Lahance stud farms....wish we had those around here...hehehe))

"Of course Mademoiselle Padme, the weather was rather bad for afternoon strolls yesterday. It is a delight now that the weather's broken though, I only recently arrived here, and haven't had a chance to view the gardens in much detail. The gardeners truly must be outdoing themselves."

Larkin smiled as he said this, but Padme couldn't figure out why. But was there a reason not to smile? Padme's suite had only a small window, not enough to glance up from her book and see outside, so good thing she planned to stay indoors and get settled.

"Truly. I only just arrived yesterday morning, I can't wait to see them in action. When did you arrive yourself Monsuier Larkin?"

She answered, much quicker this time, seeming to actually be involved in the conversation as opposed to the surveying of the garden. Then again, who could blame her, lovely though the carefully maintained trellis was it was not something to hold a young lady's eye for a great while, unlike the nostalgic old man that Larkin seemed to be rapidly becoming.

"Truly. I only just arrived yesterday morning, I can't wait to see them in action. When did you arrive yourself Monsuier Larkin?"

Larkin was about to attempt to disect her accent again, but he gave it up as a fruitless cause, and besides which, the day was too lovely to obsess over social status, especially since so far she did not seem to be doing so. "I too arrived yesterday morning."

He saw at once that that was a rather blunt way to phrase it, mayhaps the more proper thing to do was to inquire after her journey, or some such. Either way, it almsot sounded to him as though he wished to end the conversation, not that she had given him overmuch to work with. A light of inspiration kindled, he could kill two birds with one stone rather easily given this conversational lull. "You arrived yesterday you say? Where from? I confess that your accent, lovely though it is, is unfamiliar to me..?"

Not to subtle... but ah well, it would do for his purposes. He suspected very highly the woman was common, or above her station of birth, and if not then he would be able to talk his way out of it.

The humor of a story on the internet is in direct inverse proportion to how accurate the reporting is.

Marie-Elisabeth was all but certain that if her mother could hear her thoughts at the moment, she would be shipped off lock, stock and barrel to join Marie-Anne in the convent. Not that she would ever allow it of course; no she had already done her duty by her family and was determined not to have to do it again. She had already evaded it once, about a year after Charles died and her mother attempted to get her betrothed again. The man in question was intended as a husband for her older sister Marie-Josephine. But when she unfortunately passed away after an outbreak of smallpox, their mother had decided Marie-Elisabeth would be the replacement. But Marie-Elisabeth wouldn’t listen to any of it. She didn’t want to get married to another old man and wanted to devote herself to raising her son. And somehow, she had managed to persuade her mother that was better.

And right now, Marie-Elisabeth had to agree that not being shackled down with a husband was far better than having one. A husband certainly would have objected to the game she was so enjoying right now, and probably would have stopped it all together. She certainly didn’t want that, there was no fun in stopping a game just when it was getting interesting.

“Oh no, quite the contrary” she said, returning César’s glance and tugging on the reigns of her horse to keep him at a steady pace “Just because one has proved to be a halfway competent rider, doesn’t mean that there isn’t much more to learn. I’m afraid your assistance will still be very much required. After all, practice makes perfect, does it not”?

(((OOC: I can’t look at them the same way either, I can;t even hear the word ride without giggling now! LOL. And where is said farm by the way? Errrr purely for curiosity’s sake……yeah that’s it…..Octavien has a brother riiiiight?

And I keep having to look up the names I have for her siblings, make sure I don’t re use them, add details of what I have used, the word file I have for details is like 3 pages )))

(((ooc: The stud farms are located in Gascony , where both Octavien and César are from (if you look at the map, you'll even see the modern town of Mont-de-Marsan. ). )))

"Oh no, quite the contrary."

It would seem César's statement had the much desired and anticipated effect, of having Marie-Elisabeth assure him that his skills and 'services' would indeed still be needed for a while yet. And having her do so with a glance that let him know that she saw right through that angelic facade of his.
Well, really, he had expected no less of her, since he had made it quite obvious to someone with a mind as similar to his own that there was far more hidden underneath his innocent inquiry than it would perhaps seem to someone truly virtuous. Although... There was a kind of slyly lecherous flame dancing in those vibrant blue eyes of his, that would require one to be deaf, blind and stupid to miss the full extent of his words.

However, luckily, that didn't matter, as with their progression along the rather deserted road, came the freedom of no longer being watched, neither openly nor in secret, by anyone. There was no longer need for charades to keep up appearances of there being nothing improper going on. And if there were charades, it was simply because César and Marie-Elisabeth both seemed to enjoy them. It added yet a bit more excitement to their game of coquetry, toying with words and innuendos, and was one of the very things from which their connection had sprung in the first place. Thus, in a way, charades seemed inevitable.

"Indeed it does, Comtesse", he said with a nod, and allowed a satisfied smile to spread on his lips. "Indeed it does. Please rest assured then that I will do my best to remain at your disposal."

Pausing, he watched as she quickly took control when the stallion's energy seemed to start to rub off on the gelding, and then gave her an appreciative and encouraging nod, silently commending her slight but firm maneuver.

"Now", he then continued, and the moment he opened his mouth again, that subtle mischievous tone found it's way back into his voice at the irony of what he was about to say; "I hope you don't find me too bold, but as it seems we are to spend some time together, will you allow me to call you by your first name? I do find the use of titles to be somewhat... reserved and distant."

"I hope you don't find me too bold, but as it seems we are to spend some time together, will you allow me to call you by your first name? I do find the use of titles to be somewhat... reserved and distant."

Now that was something Marie-Elisabeth wholeheartedly agreed with. As much as she was a stickler for showing the proper respect to a title, and never trying to presume to be above yours, in a situation like this one it hardly seemed to matter. Even if their game wasn’t in play, César didn’t seem like the type of person who cared overly much for them. And honestly, neither did she.

“Oh I wouldn’t deem it too bold at all” she said with a smile, as she attempted to focus her attention back on her horse. It would be just her luck to fall off and make a complete fool of herself “In fact, I’d prefer you call me by my name. I much prefer it to being called Comtesse. Especially by those I intend on, as you put it, spending time with in the future. Titles do seem dreadfully impersonal in such personal situations don’t they?”

This time when she looked over at him, the smirk was indisputably there. Perhaps not quite as much as it had been in the past, because she was still slightly embarrassed by the events of the morning. But it was as close as it was going to get right now, and she was sure it would still have the desired effect. “I do hope Marquis” she added “That this means I can call you by your name as well”.

It was to be expected that sooner or later, the state of Octavien and Joséphine's garments, not to mention their injuries would begin to attract some attention from nearby courtiers, and more and more stares and whispering surrounded them like the buzzing of a swarm of agitated insects. Adding to that Joséphine's state of bitter disappointment and underlying anger after having seen her darkest suspicions realized, Octavien's horror at being caught between his loyalty towards his close male friend and his wife he may or may not have had undisclosed feelings for and an utterly oblivious Baroness Devine who knew nothing of it and only insisted on seeing that Joséphine's wounds received treatment, and one could hardly imagine a more tangled and cumbersome situation.

In a possible attempt to smooth things over, if only marginally, Octavien too devoted his attention to a more careful examination of Joséphine's scratches, expressing his agreement with Bella's advice.

Deep inside, well beyond the turmoil currently raging supreme, the Marquise was aware they had a good point and cleaning those scratches was a matter of caution, yet when she finally gave in, it was for a different reason: what she wanted was relief from all those inquisitive stares currently directed at this oddest of trios.

“All right, all right”, Joséphine said a little impatiently, regaining the usual smooth flow of her speech almost immediately after that, “I was about to retire, but I have changed my mind and wish to stop by my daughters' suite instead. There are bandages, water and antiseptic there, a small caution when travelling with children. You may join me if you wish, and Bess our housemaid who is quite the expert at tending cuts and the like can look after our injuries”, she said, briefly glancing at Octavien, “I would prefer to avoid the fuss of summoning a physician. If you aren't opposed to a brief wait and two young children, you are welcome to join us, Baroness.”

Restrictions, reservation and distance being the last thing César wanted ruling his conversations with Marie-Elisabeth, as well as any other 'encounters' that the future might hold for the two of them, César was pleased to find that once again, the Comtesse seemed to share his sentiments. And not only that, she also allowed him to glimpse that smile that during their rather brief acquaintance, so far, had begun turning into something he very much looked forward to seeing, whenever it was not already present.

"I do hope Marquis", she concluded her agreement, "that this means I can call you by your name as well."

To that, he first gave simply a nod, he himself feeling, much like her, that he would much rather have a beautiful woman address him by his first name than by his title, or even as 'Monsiuer de la Valliére', as the use of first name held a magic of it's own, as far as growing intimacy was concerned.

"Of course, Marie-Elisabeth", he said, wasting no time after having been given her blessing to make use of that beautiful name, and pronouncing it as though he was carefully tasting it on the tip of his tongue. "In fact, I insist that you do."

That being said, he darned near gave a slight yawn, as a quick glance around the surrounding landscape and the setting sun alerted his subconscious that nighttime was approaching, and that there was a previous night of no sleep whatsoever behind him, that should be taking it's toll on him right about now, if not sooner. Though he managed quite successfully to suppress it, and much to his relief too, as yawning in a lady's company, regardless of the reason, would hardly be considered a compliment to said lady.

Still, with darkness only an hour or so away, and his vigor now dwindling, it would probably be best to return to the Palace. Funny, how it seemed they had only been riding for minutes, when in fact they must have left the stables behind quite some time ago. It would only go on to prove that whoever said that times flies when one is having fun, had not been exaggerating.

"I regret to say it", he said and shot the increasingly firey horizon another glance, before turning his gaze back to Marie-Elisabeth, "but it would seem that evening is upon us, and as much as I have enjoyed our ride, I do believe we best start turning back."